Keeping the Appointment
by DarlingS
Summary: The Author sits in a comfy armchair in one Draco Malfoy’s own personal residence, watching him prance around in a towel after coming out of the bathroom from having a shower just minuets earlier. “Draco, I really think you need a reality check. This story


**Author's Note****s**: Well, just to warn you, this isn't a serious story of any kind. It features a VERY OOC!Draco. This is just a warning because I know some people don't like a flamboyant Draco. Actually he reminded me a bit of Stewie from Family Guy when I was writing him. So Draco himself is property of J.K.Rowling, though is situation and personality is mine

The Author sits in a comfy armchair in one Draco Malfoy's own personal residence, watching him prance around in a towel after coming out of the bathroom from having a shower just minuets earlier.

"Draco, I really think you need a reality check. Actually, I've scheduled you for an appointment at 2:30 this afternoon."

Draco turns slowly around, glaring in the Author's direction.

"What is that _filth_ coming out of your mouth? Dray-co? _Dray-_co? It's Dragon now sweet cheeks. All the fangirls just _DROOL_ whenever my nickname is used, so I decided to permanently change it. Besides, Draco is so Mediaeval Ages." the newly christened Dragon said with a flourish.

The Author is now very confused. Who would want to change their name to Dragon? It is very clear now that _Dragon_ is in dire need of that reality check. "Alright, that's fine, uh, Dragon...just get dressed, your appointment is in an hour!"

"Alright fine, no need to get your knickers in a twist." said Dragon's muffled voice, floating out from the bureau drawer he was inspecting. Silence filled the room for all of about two minuets, and then... "Hey, the Author, Do you mind if I call you Red? Then we'd be like the Red Dragon. Oh that's just muchos coolos! Besides, all the fangirls just _DROOL_ whenever Ginny and I call each other Dragon and Red."

One exasperated eye roll later and the Author replies. "Ya, you can call me whatever you like."

"How about 'Pheasant Feet'?"

"No."

" Franklesteen?"

"No."

"Oh, alright."

"So, Draco..."

"Dragon!"

"Sorry," the Author apologises, " Dragon, could you, you know, get dressed now. We really need to go."

"Oh yes, fine, if you insist." Dragon agrees. He turns towards his wardrobe and scrutinizes his apparel." Hmm, now what to wear, what to wear? Let's see, there's the black jeans and t-shirt."

Noticing the Author's confused stare, Dragon responds, "Don't look at me that way. Muggles happen to have a great sense of fashion! I know ,I know, it's not 'Malfoy' to say that, but they truly do. Robes can be such a bore some times! Any way, back to my clothing. There's the Vampiric dress robes. Umm, no, I just don't think so. Hmm, black pants and dress shirt with the gray cardigan . . . wait a minuet. Gray? _GRAY?_ What the hell? That stupid House Elf is doing a hell of a job on my blacks!"

The Author can see that this will definitely take up the precious time needed to get ready. "Draco, it doesn't matter. You could wear your pajamas if you want!"

"DRAGON!"

"Sorry."

"That's quite alright Red, anyone could have made the mistake." Dragon said kindly. But then sighing mournfully he continued. " I can't wear my dear black silk pajamas. They were ruined by that damn House Elf as well. I've ordered new ones but they've yet to get here, so I've taken to sleeping in the nude. All the fangirls just _DROOL_ whenever I sleep in the buff. I think I will just have to take care of this now. It will only take a minuet." Snapping his fingers and yelling as loud as he could, Dragon screamed out, "YODA!"

And POP a little black House Elf appeared in front of Draco and the Author. His protruding, bulbous eyes narrowed slightly upon catching sight Draco.

"Yes Master Draco." The little elf asked.

"Master DRAGON!"

"Yoda is sorry Master Dragon. Yoda is forgetting Master's change in name. Yoda will punish himself." the elf said quickly while repeatedly bumping his head against the nearest wall.

"It's fine Yoda, do stop hitting your head on the wall, your giving me a wicked headache. Now what I wanted to talk to you about is the state of my clothes. You see, first it was the silk pajamas, and now just this afternoon, I found a gray cardigan in my bureau. _GRAY_ Yoda! I have never owned a gray article of clothing in my entire _life_! Well, except those retched Hogwarts uniforms, but even those I dye black during the summer holidays. Now you must understand, but there's only one thing to be done. No, don't try and change my mind. I have decided. It's _clothes_ for you!" Draco ranted, while manically searching once more for the gray cardigan, which he found and threw at the disimpassioned Yoda.

"Yesss! Woopee! I'm free, I'm free. You can never catch me! HA HA!" the elated House Elfsing-songed. He was clearly not sad or emotionally tortured in anyway, much to the Author's chagrin. Turning to look at Draco, the Author could tell that he hadn't expected this reaction either. "Stupid sickly pale boy, I _hate_ working for you and your prissy parents! I absolutely _LOATHE_ your dark wardrobe, perfectly pointy features and silvery halo of hair. And don't even start me on my stupid second-rate name. Yoda? _Yoda? _God, it's been done you unimaginative fool! In fact, I'm renaming myself Franklesteen! HA! I bet you'd never have thought of a name like Franklesteen!"

"Well, actually I . . ."

"Silence!"

"Fine, I see how it is. Yoda . . ."

"Franklesteen!"

"Right, sorry."

"Quite alright."

"Any way, I see how it is. You just don't appreciate all that I have done for you these years. I've loved and cared for you like no one else ever could. I made you iron my clothes and make my meals. Watched you discover new and inventive was of punishing yourself, and this is how you repay me?"

"SCREW YOU BITC . . ."

The door (thank god) was slammed in a timely manner by an indignant Dragon, effectively cutting the irate Franklesteen off. Giving a little sniff of dislike and dusting his hands off, Dragon turned around and headed back to his bureau muttering under his breath.

"Insolent little toad. I gave him my best years too. It's getting harder and harder to find a good respectable House Elf. First it was Dobby and now Yoda. I swear, the fun has just gone _right_ out of threatening them with clothing. Pointy features. I'm not pointy, I'm chiselled. All the fangirls just _DROOL_ over my chiselled face! And he has the gall to call me sickly pale. I'm _fair skinned!_ And WHAT was that kibosh about his name? Yoda is a good, strong, respectable name. And he wants to change it to _Franklesteen?_ What a waste of the alphabet. Some people are just ridiculous."

'Well, that was definitely different to say the least. But as entertaining as it was, we are going to be late for Draco's reality check' the Author thought.

"If you don't get dressed very soon Draco, we are going to be . . ." the Author started.

"Dragon!"

Sighing out load, the Author started to apologise, "Yes, I'm terribly sorry."

"I swear, you have the _worst_ memory I have ever come across. It's DRAGON. You know, like the great big, winged, fire-breathing reptilian. Can be embellished with large furls of smoke coming out of it's nose, horns, furls around it's neck, a great spiky murderous tail and the like. All around dangerous, mystical animal."

"Thank you for the description Dragon. Now would you _please_ pick something out and wear it! Anything will do." the exasperated Author said.

"Oh alright, don't be pushy. Hmm, oh yes, I've got just the outfit. I've been hoping for the perfect occasion to wear it!" and excited Draco said while rushing off to his change room.

"Um, occasion?" the nervous Author croaked out.

"Yes, yes, you'll see. It's a simply marvellous brain storm of mine." Dragon's muffled voice said with increasing enthusiasm. "You see," he continued breathlessly, " I've noticed that a lot of people are describing me as having an almost _feline_ grace, so, I thought," here there was a pause as the loud noise of a zipper being done up interrupted the silence. "why not wear a catsuit!"

Draco stepped out from behind the heavy curtain of the dressing room with a flourish. He was indeed wearing a catsuit. And what a catsuit it was. Black leather (would it be anything else) clothed his form, contouring to his hard, toned, Quidditch trained body. There was also a picture on the back of a great dragon of red leather with unfurled wings and barred teeth.

"Oh dear lord." the dumbfounded Author proclaimed.

"Isn't it just fab?" proud Draco enthused. " And look at this! If I turn just so, lean back just a little, throw my hair off of my head with a little flick, and look at you with a soul-piercing stare and just a little bit of my patented 'I'm-much-better-then-you-and-oh-so-sexy' smirk, then you can feel your knees start to wobble and turn to jelly! Isn't that just superb!" said the smirking posed Draco. "I've been practising. A full length mirror is such a handy tool." Finally, the still Draco moved out of his pose and wiped his forehead with a soft cashmere hanky. "Whew, I'd better stop. I'm giving my_self_ tingles. All the fangirls are just going to _DROOL_ when the see me in this!"

**Parting Thoughts**: So, how did you like it? It was a little thing I concocted at about 3 am, well, I wrote down the dialogue and then fleshed it out the next morning. My sister seemed to enjoy it, and I enjoyed writing it, but maybe we're just biased?

Please, please, PLEASE leave a review. I noticed that about 20 people have looked at this fic, but only one person has written a review. Please write what you think of it. I know that it's a little tedious, but it means the world to the author. Thanks so much!


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